


baptized by ice

by msinformed13



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cute, F/F, Fluff, Stark Family Fluff, sansaery, sansaery baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 05:09:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13920063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msinformed13/pseuds/msinformed13
Summary: {It's not that Margaery is overly competitive with things that aren't really a competition, but last time they visited Catelyn had said how much she wanted a grandson and Ned had given Margaery his patented and hard earned ‘shoulder clap of approval’ in the hospital and their son was the first boy in this generation of Starks so Jeyne and her two (perfectly wonderful) daughters could suck it. Not that Margaery was competitive.“Sansa Stark, I swear if I come home and find that our son had been baptized by snow-”“Ice.” Sansa smoothly corrected, earning a glare from her wife.“If that boy has been in the snow without so much as his puffy jacket, mittens, scarf, boots, and a hat. There will be consequences.”“What kind?” Sansa's eyes sparkled with a dirty sort of mischief that had only come out after months of dating the Tyrell.}Modern Sansaery AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a fluffy thing I thought of a while ago and had on my computer for a bit and decided to throw on here. Let me know what you think.

The video footage was grainy and a date stamp in the lower right corner claimed that it was December 24, 1985. It showed a small living room, shag carpeting, and a boxy TV set in the corner, cups littered a low coffee table, and the camera swung to reveal Ned Stark, twenty three years old and laughing. His hair dark and thick, face unblemished by wrinkles, and his brothers stood beside him. All three were stripping down out of warm sweaters and jeans, boots and woolen socks until they were clad in only their boxers. 

“You Starks are truly mad.” Catelyn’s voice carried from behind the video recorder. 

“It's a tradition.” Brandon, the oldest replied with an easy smile. 

“Doesn't make it less crazy.”

“Ready?” Benjen interrupted, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. 

There was a murmur of consensus from the brothers before the camera shakily trailed the boys down a long hallway to the front door which was thrown open to reveal a blizzard. At least four feet of snow had already accumulated on the ground. 

“Oldest first?” Benjen teased.

“Its youngest first!” Brandon objected. 

“Bloody wimps.” A different female voice said just behind the camera, and then in a streak of brown hair and pale skin, Lyanna came sprinting from behind Catelyn wearing nothing but a sports bra and a pair of boy short underwear. She launched herself over the railing on the front porch, flying through the air for a solid few seconds before landing in the snow drift. Her head surfaced moments later with a wide wolffish grin, “Fuck!” She yelled, “Come on in, the water's great.” 

The boys needed no other encouragement to follow their sister over the rail and into the snow. Catelyn trailed them out, staying on the porch, but recording the Stark siblings horsing around in the snow. They stayed outside for a few moments until the cold finally got to them, and one by one they ran back up the steps of the porch and back into the house. Ned was last, and instead of running inside, he crowded closer to the camera. 

“Oh no you don’t! You’re not getting anywhere near me until you’re dried and warm.” Catelyn warned, her voice not at all stern. 

“Comeon, Cat.” He tried, his eyes shining with mirth that could be picked up despite the footage’s old grainy quality. 

“No way!” 

Catelyn squealed as she was presumably scooped up into a hug by Ned, the camera simply recording footage of the yard behind them before turning black. 

This was the first in a montage. What followed was years and years of Christmas eve snow jumps by the Stark family, the following one showcased Catelyn being picked up and thrown over the porch railing by Benjen and Brandon because since she was ‘officially a Stark’ having married Ned the year previous, she had to partake in the tradition at least once. That video ended with a cold and frowning Catelyn chasing Lyanna through the apartment, trying to steal the camera back. 

Two years following was the debut of Robb. Ned carried him, only five months old and clad in nothing but a diaper, cradled protectively against his chest as he went out the back door- no porch this time as it was shot in the first apartment that Catelyn and Ned had gotten together and into the snow. Robb loved it. The baby picked up fistfuls of snow happily and threw them at Catelyn who was recording with disbelief lacing her voice, “He’s not even shivering, are you sure Ned?” 

With each successive year, the family grew and grew. Arya pitched a fit when it was her first year in the snow. Robb- a very responsible boy of six- spent the first five minutes of the video recording begging Catelyn to let him carry baby Arya into the three feet of snow in their backyard. 

Eventually, she relented. Reminding him one last time about supporting her head, Catelyn recorded Robb walking carefully and deliberately with his baby sister to join Jon, Sansa, and Ned in the yard. The moment a snowflake landed on Arya’s bare foot, she burst out screaming. She thrashed about and to his credit, Robb did not drop her, instead bundling closer into his chest as he picked up his pace, wading through the deep snow to the rest of his family. 

By the time he was close enough to hand off the screaming baby to Ned, Arya had landed a few solid kicks to his stomach and her surprisingly strong fist had collided hard enough to leave a bruise on his cheek. 

Every consecutive year, Arya was fine. 

When Bran appeared for the first time, it was in a different yard. The Starks had upgraded to a larger house, this one with a back porch half a story up from ground level. Robb, Jon and Sansa were deemed old enough to leap from the railing and down into the snow while Ned stood with small Bran and Arya, watching. The three older children quickly made a diving competition, Robb did a front flip, Sansa copied him, Jon tried to and landed funny. The video clip ended when Catelyn sprinted from the house, falling to her knees in the snow beside Jon and the camera dropped to the ground beside them getting an image of the boy’s arm twisted at an unnatural angle. 

“That’s how Jon broke his arm the second time.” Sansa confided, whispering into her girlfriend’s ear. 

“You’re family is bloody nuts.” Margaery replied. 

“Hush, it’s just getting good.” 

The following clips followed the addition of Rickon and growth of all the children, progressively the quality of video got better as new cameras were used, and in 2010 in addition to six Stark children jumping in the snow, there were six large dogs. Margaery saw Bran, younger and more energetic than she had ever seen him, running and jumping with his siblings. She had met Bran after his accident and seeing him out of his chair was jarring. She bit her lip in despair when she saw in 2012 Jon holding the younger boy on his back when he carefully jumped from the deck. 

Margaery watched Sansa grow from a small child to preteen and eventually teenager all clips of bright auburn hair and beautifully pale skin. She watched Sansa grown into her ears and become graceful with her long limbs. 

It was adorable. 

Finally the clip from 2016 was up. This one started inside the house, apparently there was some sort of argument going on. Robb and Jon were standing in the family room, both only in their boxer shorts, staring down at Arya and Sansa on the couch. 

“Come on, it’s a tradition!” Jon said, his voice suspiciously close to a whine. 

“Fine.” Arya gave in, standing from her couch and stripping off her sweater, throwing it at Sansa whose eyes were glued to her phone. Her sweat pants went next when Sansa still didn’t look up. 

She shared a look with Robb and Jon, and through some sort of sibling telepathy, they moved together. Jon snatched Sansa’s phone from her hands, “Rickon! Catch!” He shouted, throwing it out of frame to the youngest Stark sibling. Robb picked up an angry Sansa from the couch, holding her in the air while Arya swooped in to take off her sister’s socks.    
“What the hell? Come on guys!” Sansa shouted, twisting in her brother’s hold. 

“You can text your girlfriend later. It’s nearly midnight!” Robb smirked. 

“I wasn’t texting my girlfriend.” Sansa growled, turning bright red and kicking out at Arya as the younger girl unsnapped the button of her sister’s jeans. 

“I miss you so much, Marge. I can’t wait till school starts and I see you again!” Rickon read in a high falsetto voice, impersonating Sansa. 

“Knock it off!”    
“I miss you too, darling.” Rickon carried on gleefully, his voice taking on a slightly different tone to be Margaery, “Especially that thing you do with your…” Rickon trailed off. The camera turned violently to show the youngest Stark with the tips of his ears glowing red, his mouth gaped open as he stared down at his sister’s phone. 

Then, the camera turned back, showing Sansa, Robb, and Arya frozen. Arya had managed to get Sansa’s jeans half down her legs, and Robb was still holding her about five inches in the air. 

Finally Arya was the one who broke the silence, a wide smirk gracing her face, “Damn!” 

“I didn’t-” The older girl stammered. 

“Sansa!” Catelyn threw in, clearly stunned at the texts Rickon had read. 

“It wasn’t me!”    
There was a long suffering sigh of a mother who had raised a whole pack of wild kids, “Robb, put your sister down. Sansa, we’ll talk about this later. Just go jump off the porch.” 

“Yes, ma.” The kids chorused together. 

Robb set Sansa back on her feet, and she kicked off her jeans, balling them up and tossing them at Arya with more force than was strictly necessary. The camera followed the kids as they traipsed through the house and out the back door. 

“I can’t believe your brother read the sexts I sent to you.” Margaery said. 

“Just imagine how embarrassed I was.” Sansa countered. 

The television set emitted a screech as on the screen Jon and Robb picked Sansa up again, Robb with his hands under her arms, and Jon holding her feet. They threw her over the porch railing into the large snow drift below. 

With that, the video finally ran to black and Sansa turned to her girlfriend with an expectant smile. 

“You’re all nuts, you know that right?” Margaery asked. 

“Yeah, but at least we’re fun.” 

“Am I going to have to do that?”

“Not next week, no. Not till we’re married.” Sansa said offhandedly, exiting out of the video on the television and searching for their usual evening show. 

Margaery could have let it go. She could have ignored the comment and let it slide, but then she wouldn’t be Margaery. So instead she put on a smirk, “Not until we’re married?” She parroted. 

Sansa blushed deep red, but didn’t take it back, “Yeah, when we’re married.” She affirmed, “I’m going to marry you one day, Margaery.” When she didn’t get a reply, Sansa began to feel self conscious, “I mean, if you’re okay with that.” 

The brunette couldn’t help the wide smile that came across her face, “That sounds wonderful.” 

“Great.” Sansa matched her smile. 

“Don’t think this gets you out of an official proposal. I’m expecting something big and grand. Flowers, music, wine, the whole nine yards.” Margaery warned, settling into her girlfriend’s side. 


	2. Chapter 2

Three years later Margaery was officially inducted into the Stark family. She and Sansa had been together for six years before they got married in a beautiful spring wedding. The ceremony itself was small, little more than friends and close family, held outside in a beautiful field surrounded by flowers and loved ones. 

But the for Christmas that followed, it wasn't even up for discussion where they would spend the holiday. Margaery half heartedly hoped that they would forget, that some sort of exception would be made. She had seen Jenye be goaded into stripping down and jumping off the back porch into a snow drift two years prior after her and Robb got married, but she was from Winterfell herself! She was a child of snow and ice just as much as the Starks. 

And Jon’s wife Ygritte was from Canada, even further North. She jumped in the snow the year she married her Stark, and the following year, making a point of challenging Jon to see who could stay out the longest. She won, of course. 

Even Catelyn had been a midwestern girl before she married Ned, not quite as North as Winterfell, but still, Riverrun was not the south by any stretch of the imagination. And now after spending nearly thirty years living in Winterfell, she was as good as a northerner. 

But Margaery wasn't like them. She was a southern girl through and through, when she visited Winterfell with Sansa, she bundled like she was going to the North Pole. At night she piled blankets on their bed and burrowed in close to Sansa’s side in an attempt to steal as much body heat as possible from the perpetually warm northerner. She was convinced that if she went into the snow in just her underwear, she would not be coming back out. 

She was lulled into a false sense of security. For the first few days of their visit, nobody at all made mention of the tradition. The wedding was nearly six months ago, and Margaery was so used to the Starks, the visit felt like nothing out of the ordinary. 

Until Christmas Eve. Of course the Starks decided to play with the newest addition to the family a bit first. It began subtle. They were all watching a Hallmark original Christmas movie in the den when first Rickon left and reappeared in nothing but his underwear. He retook his place on the couch between Jon and Arya as though nothing were out of place. And nobody said a word. 

Margaery decided to ignore it too, chalking the behavior up to some weird antics of the youngest Stark. 

Then Bran. He wheeled himself out of the den and returned minutes later in only his boxer shorts, a little smirk on his face. 

Arya went next, “Gods, that fire is just really hot.” She commented, not bothering to leave the room before whipping off her sweatshirt and shimmying out of her track shorts. 

Margaery snuck a sidelong glance at her wife, and seeing the redhead hardly containing a shiteating grin, she knew exactly what was coming next, “You’re right Arya, it is rather warm in here.” Jon agreed, theatrically before pulling off his sweater and jeans as well. Robb was next, not adding to their bad acting before simply standing and removing his clothes, “Maybe we should open a window.” Margaery suggested with a smirk. 

“Great idea, or even the back door.” Jon agreed. 

Margaery turned to her wife, “There’s really no getting out of this?”

“I'm afraid not, love.” Sansa’s grin was nowhere near apologetic. She stood and held out a hand to pull the brunette to her feet as well. Margaery looked around and saw the expectant faces of the whole Stark family and she sighed, realizing that at some point Catelyn must have started filming because now she held a video recorder, capturing the whole scene. 

Ever the good sport, Margaery toed off her socks and drew her sweater over her head, “Lets do this.” She said with grim determination, stepping out of her leggings. 

Sansa hastened to undress as well and led the way out to the back porch, “I love you, and I'm truly sorry for what's about to happen.” She said. 

Before Margaery had a chance to ask, she was being swept into the air by Robb and Jon and launched over the back rail of the deck. She let out a surprised shout before she plunged into the four foot deep snow drift. 

Her head popped up as the Starks began leaping over, Robb cannon balling with reckless abandon, Arya performing a graceful flip from the railing, Jon carefully diving in with Bran held on his back, Rickon with a running start, and Sansa aiming for a spot just beside her shivering wife. Margaery’s lips were already blue, and she had been outside for less than a minute. When Sansa emerged, snow dusting her hair, just a few inches away, Margaery immediately clung to her. She wrapped her legs about Sansa’s waist and her arms around her shoulders as a violent shiver wracked through her body. 

“You're all raving mad.” She said through chattering teeth. 

“Babe, you're blue!”

“Cause it's f-f-fucking cold out!” Margaery clung tighter for body heat. 

Across the yard the other Starks had started a snowball fight, and Ygritte had leap over the railing to join them. A stray snowball missed its intended target and collided with Sansa’s head. 

“Oh those shits.” She said threateningly, scooping up a snowball of her own to lob at Arya’s head. She participated as much as she could in the snowball fight with Margaery clinging koala style to her torso until the brunette’s shivering came in ernest. 

“We’re going to head in.” Sansa finally decided, bidding her siblings farewell and wading her way to the porch steps. The entire time Margaery didn't let go of her hold on the taller girl until they had made it up the steps and she saw Catelyn waiting with a smile and a warm fluffy towel. Then she leapt out of Sansa’s arms and into those of the Stark matriarch. Catelyn laughed and wrapped the towel snugly around her daughter in law, “Poor darling, you look like you're frozen to the bone.”

Margaery was only able to manage a stilted and tragic nod in reply, “Why don't you go warm up by the fire, hot cocoa will be ready in a few minutes.”

Margaery smiled her thanks and Sansa soon joined her in front of the fire, handing the smaller woman some of her old sweats and an oversized hoodie to pull on. When they were both once again clothed and snuggled together beneath four blankets in front of the fire, Sansa pressed a kiss to her wife’s damp hair. 

“You're all absolutely mad.” Margaery said. 

“Yes well, you're officially a Stark now.” Sansa’s smile was so wide it was contagious, Margaery could only imagine that she had thought about this moment growing up like she had thought about her wedding or her future home, just another big step she would one day take with the person she loved, and Margaery couldn't be happier to be that person. And Sansa, with her cheeks and nose pink from the cold, with snowflakes shining on her eyelashes, had never looked more lovely. 

Margaery leant up to kiss her chastely, “I suppose I am.”


	3. Chapter 3

It's not that Margaery is overly competitive with things that aren't really a competition, but last time they visited Catelyn had said how much she wanted a grandson and Ned had given Margaery his patented and hard earned ‘shoulder clap of approval’ in the hospital and their son was the first boy in this generation of Starks so Jeyne and her two (perfectly wonderful) daughters could suck it. Not that Margaery was competitive. 

“Sansa Stark, I swear if I come home and find that our son had been baptized by snow-”

“Ice.” Sansa smoothly corrected, earning a glare from her wife. 

“If that boy has been in the snow without so much as his puffy jacket, mittens, scarf, boots, and a hat. There will be consequences.”

“What kind?” Sansa's eyes sparkled with a dirty sort of mischief that had only come out after months of dating the Tyrell. 

“If you let our son go through this obscure northern hazing ritual, you have to top for the entire month of January.” 

Sansa’s eyebrows flew to her hairline, “You wouldn't!” It was a good a threat as Margaery could give. She had tried withholding sex before, but the longest that ever worked for her was an unimpressive three days, her own libido simply wouldn't cooperate with that threat. And it wasn't even that Sansa never topped when they had sex, it was just largely Margaery in control. The brunette knew full well that the threat of having to give up being a pillow princess for a full month was her best hope of keeping her wife in check. 

“Try me.” The determined set to Margaery’s lips let Sansa know she wasn’t playing around, “Jeyne and I are just going to be gone for an hour max to pick up some last minute groceries for Christmas dinner, and when we get back I expect our son to be just as bundled as he is now. If not more so.” 

“You’ve got it, boss.” Sansa said with a mock salute. 

Margaery leveled her with one more final look before nodding and giving her a final kiss, she smoothed a lock her their son’s wispy hair back, dropping a kiss to his forehead, “You behave yourself for your Ma while I’m gone.” 

As promised, Margaery and Jeyne returned in less than an hour, arms laden down with grocery bags to find an eerily quiet house, “Oh, they better not have…” Margaery trailed off, leading the way through the house to the backyard where they found an open door. 

Sure enough, outside in the back were nine Starks happily playing in the snow. Sansa was holding little baby Ollie in her arms, as the boy screamed in delight at the falling snow, his two cousins were minded by Robb and Arya. The three and one year old were both so small that without the adults they would be lost beneath the accumulated snow drifts. 

“Of course they did.” Margaery sighed. 

Jeyne smiled form beside her, “You couldn’t have expected anything different, could you?” 

“No.” Margaery agreed. 

She pulled out her cell phone and snapped a few photos of her wife and son playing in the snow. When Sansa realized that the two had returned, she turned with a guilty smile on her face.  Later that night, they were squished in Sansa’s childhood bed, Ollie soundly asleep in his travel bassinet, and Margaery rolled over to straddle her wife. 

“Happy Christmas Eve, sweetling.” She murmured, kissing down Sansa’s neck. 

The redhead hummed in contentment, stretching out languidly and letting her hands find purchase on Margaery’s hips. Margaery let this go on for a few minutes, enjoying the ease of it. Eventually though, she stopped and pulled away, rolling onto her side of the bed and laying back. She looked over at Sansa with a wicked smirk, “Well?” 

“Seriously?” Sansa groaned. 

“Seriously.” Margaery propped herself up on an elbow, “I warned you, and from now until January twenty fourth you’re going to be paying the price.” 

Sansa huffed in annoyance but rose to the challenge, “Fine.” She said, leaning over Margaery to resume their kiss. The brunette allowed it for a little before she started getting antsy. She shifted over, sliding her way beneath her wife and forcing Sansa to top. It was great until Margaery drew in a quick gasp of pain at the stabbing in her side, “Sweetling, your hip.” 

“Sorry!” Sansa said, shifting and trying to find a more comfortable position while minding her elbows and other edges, “How’s that?” 

“Great.” Margaery smiled, wrapping a hand around Sansa’s neck to draw her wife back down to her. They kissed languidly before Margaery started shifting down the bed. Sure Sansa was on top, but Margaery was still controlling their pace. Her progress was halted by a sharp tug on her hair, “Your arm’s on my hair.” She frowned. 

“Sorry.” The redhead groaned, shifting again. She finally found a position where she was supporting herself, she looked down and realized that she was essentially doing a plank. Her stomach muscles protested under the strain,“Gods how do you do this all the time?” 

“I have great abs.” Margaery smirked. 

Sansa narrowed her eyes at the woman beneath her, but declined to comment. 


End file.
